


Overload

by Raaj



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, I took a bit of leeway with that, altered mental state, anon asked about p5 protagonist sacrificing himself to summon satanael, more characters will be tagged as they become more prominent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-03-07 13:20:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18874006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raaj/pseuds/Raaj
Summary: The will of the people had sustained a god.  When their hopes flow to a single person instead, it may be too much to handle.Joker summons Satanael.   Minutes later, Ren collapses in the middle of Shibuya.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Apologizing in advance for any medical (and in future chapters, legal) information I get wrong, as googling only got me so far on some things.

Ren's head hung low as he brought up the rear of the group trudging through the waters flooding a transformed Shibuya. When Ryuji turned around, playfully telling him to pick up his feet a little, Makoto scolded him for not considering that Ren might understandably be fatigued, having just summoned a skyscraper of a Persona, and both slowed down a little to make sure Ren didn't fall too far behind.

When Ren swiped his sleeve across his face, Ann frowned and asked if he was okay, and Haru asked if he needed to borrow her handkerchief. "Don't need anything," he answered dully. "It's fine. 'M fine."

Yusuke and Futaba had their attention on him too now. Any other time and they would have worked as a group to figure out why their friend sounded so lifeless straight away. But then in the next instant, the water they'd been wading through crystallized and shattered into brilliant pieces carried away by the air. The massive skeletons towering over the city began to disappear. And Morgana, too, was disappearing, his whole body glowing with light. With the hopes of the people. He looked at his friends with clear, tranquil eyes, and told them how all the world was cognition and that, as long as they stuck together and saw things through as one, they could get through anything. He was being taken away from them, fading into the very air, but his expression was calm with acceptance.

Then Morgana's translucent eyes clouded. "Joker?" His peaceful expression twisted. "Hey, wait--Joker--" He reached down with one paw futilely, far too out of reach.

Everyone's eyes snapped to Ren. His head was still hanging low, heedless of Morgana calling him. He listed to his right, seeming as though he would go off-balance any second, but he didn't move to correct himself. He didn't seem to be moving at all.

There were tears trickling from his eyes. Thick, black, putrid-looking tears.

He toppled.

"JOKER!"

Morgana's cry was cut off in a flash of light. In an instant, he was gone, and Shibuya was returned to normal. Pedestrians crowded the pavement, murmuring with various shades of concern and curiosity as they maneuvered around six teenagers hovering over a seventh sprawled on the ground.

They moved into a protective circle quickly, Ryuji squatting down and turning Ren onto his back to get a good look at him. He was met with open but blank gray eyes that stared through him. "Ren. Renren?" He leaned down over their friend before his head jerked up to Makoto. "Yo, he ain't breathing...!"

Makoto was reaching for an Angel Tart before she remembered they were no longer in the Metaverse; the Metaverse was no more. There was no convenient spell or item to revive Ren. "I--I'll call for help!" she told Ryuji, fumbling for her phone in her pocket. She punched 119 and brought it up to her ear as she tried to take stock of the situation. Could a hospital even do anything? Black tears--the last time she had seen black tears like that had been Kunikazu Okumura's televised mental shutdown. No one could fix a shutdown. But a shutdown only happened when someone's Shadow was killed, and as a Persona-user, Ren always had his Shadow with him, so...so...what had happened to him? Why did it look so much like a shutdown? A voice started to speak on her phone, asking something, and Makoto responded instantly. "Yes, hello? We're at the Shibuya station crosswalk. My friend collapsed, he isn't breathing... Unconscious? Possibly, he's not responding to anything--"

Her eyes flicked to Ann as she realized the blonde had joined Ryuji on the ground. Ann touched Ren's neck for a few brief seconds, and then she put both her hands on Ren's chest and pushed down. And pushed again. And again.

Chest compressions. "His heart stopped?" Makoto asked, and the look Ryuji gave her, wild-eyed and desperate, was answer enough. Ann didn't say anything, grunting as she pushed down repeatedly in a rhythm Makoto recognized. The brunette shut her eyes, willing her voice to stay steady as the operator asked more questions. She needed to remain calm, needed to shut out Futaba's wailing. Haru was holding the younger girl close to her, murmuring rambling reassurances, but Makoto could tell from the sick look of fear on Haru's expression that she was barely keeping her own composure. They both knew what this looked like, too. Yusuke's voice rang out, deep and strident, as he ordered those who gawked to move along and not crowd them unless they could offer assistance. Ann had moved on to tip Ren's head back with a gentle touch on his chin and forehead. She pinched his nose shut and covered his mouth with hers, pushing a breath into him two times, and then turned her head to look at his chest.

It was so very still. Makoto felt the frustrated sob Ann choked back burning in her own throat. Ryuji pushed her on through another set of chest compressions--"You gotta keep trying, c'mon, he needs you--" and then, as Ann attempted another rescue breath, encouraged Ren--"Ren, c'mon, just breathe, buddy, you know how," absolutely babbling, and--

Ren's chest rose under the thin layers of his two shirts before sinking back down. Ann gave him one more breath before sitting back with a loud sigh of relief, her hand gently brushing over his chest to feel that it kept filling with air. "He's breathing again," Makoto told the operator. "Can you still send--? Yes. Thank you. Thank you very much. I'll stay on." She moved the phone away from her mouth to tell the others. "An ambulance is already on its way. It should be here in a few minutes."

"Futaba, he's breathing," Haru told the girl still crying into her blue coat. "Futaba?"

"He sh-shouldn't have stopped!" Futaba yelled. "And--and even if he's breathing again, he still--is he--Ren...?"

"Hey, give him a few," Ryuji told her. "He's alive, but he's totally out of it. Eyes aren't focused at all."

Makoto wondered if Ryuji hadn't realized what Futaba was afraid of, or if he was just stubbornly refusing to give it any thought. The bleached blond seemed to be calming down now that Ren was breathing again, but the thought of a mental shutdown was keeping her on edge. She knelt down at Ren's side next to Ann to get a closer look at him, then dug a tissue pack out of another pocket with her one free hand. Opening the pack, she carefully wiped any traces of black off of the boy's slack face. "Ren, can you hear us? Please, say something."

Ren's lips pursed, an encouraging sign. They worked for a second before they managed to push a word out. "...Something."

Makoto's hand paused mid-wipe on his cheek. Even Yusuke's voice faltered as he looked back. There was a beat of silence, and then Ryuji barked out an awkward but relieved laugh. "Hol--Holy shit, Ren, you can only crack stupid jokes like that because you're already flat on your back. You see Ann's face? Makoto's?"

He wasn't seeing either of their faces at all, his eyes still staring lazily toward the sky.

"Anyone else would be a dead man," Ryuji said, shaking his head. Ren didn't answer, and the corners of Ryuji's casual smile gradually turned downward again. "Ren. Come on. Say something, for real this time. You feeling okay?"

"Something...for real? This time...you...okay..."

It wasn't a mocking imitation at all. Ren mumbled the words back with no inflection besides faint confusion, as if he truly didn't understand what was being asked of him.

"Ohhh, okay," Ann said. Her face was white, with a splotch of inky black on one cheek where she'd picked it up from Ren. "Let's not ask him questions right now. He--he needs to rest, you know? Just stay with us, Ren."

He didn't respond at all to Ann. Makoto watched his chest to make sure he was still breathing before she registered how much Ann was shaking and wrapped an arm around the blonde's shoulders, drawing her close and brushing away the black residue on her face with a flick of the thumb. Her own face felt warm despite the winter chill. She'd started crying, too. Even Ryuji was blinking fast, though he seemed determined to push back any tears with the scowl now fixed on his face. Yusuke placed a hand on his shoulder as he backed up and stood next to him, unable to stop the throng that was forming around them, though he was still trying to keep some moving along by answering questions--their friend had collapsed but would be fine, emergency services had already been called and were on their way, please, let them have space--

The growing din was pierced by an approaching siren.

Futaba kept her face pressed into Haru's shoulder, unable to deal with the sheer number of people close by, but Makoto could still hear her muttering. "Satanael. How does someone control that much power? He doesn't. Overload. Over--"

Haru shushed her. Ryuji's voice joined Yusuke's, louder and angrier, as he whirled to his feet and told people to back off so the ambulance could get through. The crowd started to thin, and Makoto could see a uniformed paramedic making his way to them. "They're here," she told Ann, and then Ren, "They're here, Ren, you'll be all right...!"

He didn't respond to that news, either, and she was afraid she might have lied. This might not be a shutdown, but Ren's mental state obviously wasn't normal.

What if Futaba was right? What if summoning Satanael had come with a cost?


	2. Chapter 2

The ambulance had space for one person to go with Ren. Ann climbed up and in the second she saw the spot, before the question of who it should be could even come up for discussion. She'd already been the tagalong in a crisis once before. And while it would have been nice to get Futaba out of the crowds by sending her with, the medical personnel needed someone who could answer their questions. Ann knew there would be questions.

Did Ren have any medical conditions or allergies that she knew of? The blonde shook her head easily. "No, I can tell you for sure his medical history's squeaky clean. He actually bragged about how 'bland and average' it was once." It made sense in light of him being the ideal test subject for a life-saving medicine... still a strange enough boast that it had always stuck out to Ann.

What had Ren been doing before he collapsed? Fighting a god wasn't the right answer. 'Fighting' period wasn't a good answer with Ren's probation. But they probably should know he'd been doing something hard on his body, in case that had anything to do with his current condition. "He was, uh, exercising! With Ryuji. The blond guy?" She winced and made herself pause before she ruined a perfectly fine cover story by babbling. "And, uh, then they met up with us. We were walking around for a few minutes after that, a-and Ren seemed fine at first, but then he...wasn't really there with us anymore. One of our friends tried calling his name, but he wasn't answering, and then he fell down."

She glanced down at Ren, hoping he might chip in. His eyes were still open, and when the paramedic had shone a light in them, she thought they followed the movement of the man's hand for a second. But then the same hand was blocking Ann's view of Ren's face, and by the time it had moved, his eyes were unfocused again. They hadn't changed since. He didn't seem to be seeing or hearing her. She took the hand limp at his side into her own, intertwining their fingers, and hoped he could at least feel that.

Did she know his parents' contact information? That was asked at the hospital, as Ren was wheeled away to be seen by a doctor. Ann stared after the stretcher as she moved to get her phone out. "His guardian's, yeah," she said. "His parents aren't... never mind." Less was more right now. She knew she had a tendency to say too much when she was put on the spot, and the hospital didn't need that much information. Boss could decide if they really needed to contact his parents. "His guardian's name is Sojiro Sakura. I've got the number for the cafe he runs. It's..."

The hospital's halls seemed a little more crowded than she'd seen last time. She guessed that made sense. Flu season, and people getting drunk because of the holiday... After taking down the necessary information, the receptionist urged her to have a seat and pointed out the vending machines in case she needed to eat or drink something. Ann imagined she looked pretty shaky. She couldn't tell for sure herself, not until she fumbled with her change for the vending machine twice. It'd been a long day. A long drive to the very bottom of the Mementos Depths to nearly get wiped out of reality and then almost killed by a sippy cup trying to play god. And then, in a matter of minutes, both Morgana and Ren...

She pressed her eyes shut when the tears welled up and took the nearest chair, gripping the can she'd bought tight in both hands. She cracked the tab and took a long sip of cool fruit drink, trying to calm herself down. Morgana was gone, and the worst part was he'd known he was going to disappear and he'd accepted it. She didn't think she would have taken something like that half as gracefully. He deserved so much better. He'd had all these hopes of being a human like them, and he'd settled for being happy for their futures instead. But his face when he'd realized something was wrong with Ren...

It was no use fighting the tears now. She let them slip out, chugging down the drink so she at least wouldn't get dehydrated. Ren...had to be okay, for both his sake and Morgana's. He had to be. Thank _god_  she'd taken that CPR course back in the summer--she nearly hadn't, wondering if maybe she was trying to go in too many directions at the same time (acting! modelling! emergency training!), but then everything about Futaba's Shadow and Palace and that  _Despair_ had scared her into going.  And her sometimes scattershot attention span had paid off for once. She'd gotten Ren breathing again, and he'd get better with medical care. He...he couldn't have had a shutdown. Yeah, it'd looked a little like what had happened with Haru's father, but it didn't make any sense to be a shutdown! It wasn't that. He'd talked earlier! He hadn't really been coherent, at all, but... but...

Ann slammed back the rest of the fruit drink, barely tasting the peach flavor, swiped away her tears, and cleared her throat. If the others heard crying in her voice, they might think the worst. Morgana had told them to stay strong and see things through even when they looked dark, and they were going to see Ren get better. She picked out Makoto's number on her phone and called. "Hey, Makoto... We're at Ito Hospital. They're taking care of Ren now. Is Futaba okay?"

_"I think she's in some shock. As we all are,"_  Makoto answered. _"We'll be over there soon. With...With Sis, actually."_

With Sae? That was...odd. "She's coming there to bring you?" Did Sae even own a car big enough for her and five teenagers?

_"No, that's not it. Sis was already here at the station square."_  Makoto paused. _"She said she'd wanted to talk to Ren."_

Ann felt a prickle of apprehension. Sae Niijima had saved Ren's life, but they weren't exactly close, and Makoto's tone betrayed her own skepticism about Sae seeking him out specifically. "Oh, huh. That's funny."

_"Yes,"_ Makoto agreed. Sae was probably nearby, as she didn't add any more to that line of thought. _"She's worried about him too, so she'll be with us."_

The tension was thick when the others came in. Makoto's tall, elegant sister stood at the front of the group, almost looking like she could be their leader when their tactician was right by her side. But that idea was immediately dashed by the black look Ryuji was giving her behind her back, his hands fisted in his coat. Ann scanned the others. Makoto met her eyes briefly, but soon focused back on the older Niijima as the woman stepped up to the receptionist's desk. Yusuke started to make a beeline toward the waiting area where Ann was, though he almost immediately halted and slowed. Futaba's hand was in his, and he had to coax her with a gentle pull to follow him until he could guide her into a seat of her own. Futaba wasn't wearing her glasses, a rare sight since everyone knew she was near-blind without them, but it looked like she'd been crying so hard she wouldn't have been able to see anyway. She was still shuddering, shaking as she wrapped her arms around herself. Yusuke himself was dry-eyed. But when he let go of Futaba, his fingers were trembling.

They hadn't gotten a single chance to rest since fighting Yaldabaoth, and Ann knew Yusuke could get shaky even on good days with his poor dietary habits. "Yusuke." She fished all the yen out of her wallet and thrust it into the startled boy's hands. "Vending machines are over there," she said, pointing. "Get something for you and Futaba to eat and drink, okay? --And something for Haru, too."

The mention of her name startled the third-year of the trance she'd seemed to fallen into.  She'd brought up the rear of the group and was now standing by herself close to the doors, almost looking as if she were lost and had wandered in by accident.  "Oh, I--I don't need anything."

"Just something light! It's been hours since any of us really ate," Ann reminded her. Haru could certainly afford her own snacks if she thought to buy any, but she had a remote look on her face that was horribly familiar. She needed someone looking after her too, and Ann waited until she had also taken a seat, her calloused hands clasped tightly in her lap. Checked to see that Yusuke had already made some selections and wasn't freezing up at the available variety, since that was something he did from time to time.

Then Ann got up from her own seat and zipped right over to Ryuji. He didn't stop glaring at Sae, his heel beating a rhythm into the floor, until she was standing right in front of him and blocking his view. "Hey. Let's go outside."

The look he flicked at her was pure irritation. "What for?"

Ann could already feel the looks coming their way because of the edge on Ryuji's voice and had to fight her own urge to snap back. "So you can _calm down_  before you do something to get yourself kicked out of the hospital," she told him, keeping her tone low. "We all need to be together right now."

She knew that had gotten through to him when his glare softened. His brown eyes flicked up over her shoulder toward the waiting area. He didn't argue when she took his hand and started leading him out, using the signs to figure out where to go.

His hand was tense, though, and they'd only made it to a quieter, less crowded hallway in the hospital when he started talking. "Ann. I--I know she's Makoto's sister, but I can't think of any good reason she'd need to talk to Ren and not the rest of us. I don't think Makoto knows why, either."

"Yeah, I got that impression when I was on the phone with her," Ann told him. Whatever Sae's reason was, Makoto didn't know, and that threw a few shades of ominous on it.

"It just--it feels dirty," Ryuji kept going, picking up steam, "An' last we knew she still had that Palace, and--and Ren's sick or, or something, he can't protect himself--"

"Hey, no," she cut him off, shaking her head vigorously.  Ryuji would always protect Ren, or any of them, really.  Usually that trait made him super reliable as a friend and teammate.  But not if he was jumping to find threats.  "She saved his life, remember? She wouldn't hurt him."

Ryuji's hand slipped away as he backed off a step, scratching his head furiously. "I wanna say you're right, that's the thing! But even Makoto didn't look comfortable when she showed up, and--if it ain't nothing bad, why won't she just say what she wanted him for?!"

"It--it could have been something private?" Ann tried, but that sounded weak even to herself. There was only one time she knew of that Ren and Sae had spoken in private, and, if anything, Sae wanting to discuss something from that day would make Ann want to keep the prosecutor as far away from him as possible. "Ryuji, listen. I don't think you're totally wrong here. It seems shady to me too. It's just, we're all worn out. What if we're seeing Niijima-san as an enemy because we've been fighting all day? So...let's calm down for now."

She knew that was a tall order even before Ryuji made a frustrated noise. " _How?_ "

They ended up outside, in the falling snow, with Ryuji making an attempt to literally cool his head and taking deep breaths as he paced around baring his arms in his short-sleeved shirt. Ann held on to his purple jacket and texted Makoto to let her know where they had vanished to and ask if they'd learned anything more about Ren's condition.  Makoto's update was reluctant and vague, saying that the staff seemed to only have speculation so far.  Ann had to prod a few times about what kind of 'speculation' it was before the third-year admitted she and Yusuke had both overheard some of the orderlies talking about a 'mental shutdown patient'. Considering Ann barely refrained from throwing her phone when she read that message, she decided it was best not to pass it on to Ryuji. The bottom line was the doctors hadn't figured out what was really wrong, since it wasn't a shutdown.

The next bit Makoto texted her was a little more encouraging. She'd share that. "Boss's here."

Ryuji looked over to her, slowing down a little in his pacing.  "Yeah?"

"You _know_  he won't let anything happen to Ren on his watch." And the hospital staff would take him more seriously if he had concerns, since he was Ren's guardian.

"...Yeah. Boss is an all right guy." Ryuji slapped his hands on his cheeks. "Okay! Let's go back in!"

"Are you good now?"

"Yeah. Think I can handle myself if Boss is around. I'm not about to get on his bad side." Ryuji shivered. "Besides, it's freaking cold out here!"

Ann smiled as she tossed Ryuji's jacket at his face for him to catch. She wasn't actually happy, but at least Sojiro was with them now. Having him here would help Futaba out a lot too.

Ryuji stuck his arms through his jacket sleeves and shrugged it on as he followed behind her. They were approaching the door to re-enter the hospital when it opened, Sae Niijima stepping out into the swirling snow.

"Ah. I'm glad I caught you out here. Ryuji-kun, Ann-chan... I'd like a word with both of you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a couple weeks ago, I felt certain this chapter would be simple and done quickly, considering it's largely based on an in-game conversation.
> 
> It turns out when you change who's talking, the circumstances, and a small tidbit of canon that bothers you, it actually gets pretty tricky, and I got stuck a few times thinking it out and deciding how it would end (that...changed a few times). Bear with me. I think it works now, but it might be a little rough.

Ryuji really thought he’d calmed down a bit. He’d told himself again and again that Ren had breezed through bad scrapes and dire straits like a gold-medal gymnast before, and that Ann was right about Niijima–she wouldn’t hurt Ren. Even if she would for some messed-up reason, she wouldn’t do it in a hospital. Ren was safe here. Real safe, now that Boss was around. He was safe, and he’d wake up soon, and it’d be his turn to have the girls cry-yell at him for worrying them. Hell, Ryuji might have some words of his own for how Ren had decided to just keel over without telling anyone he wasn’t feeling good.  _“I’m fine”, my ass._  
  
As much as Ryuji tried to reassure himself, he still tensed up when the door opened to reveal Makoto’s sister. She looked straight at him for an instant before her eyes flicked to Ann.  
  
“I’m glad I caught you out here. Ryuji-kun, Ann-chan… I’d like to have a word with both of you.”  
  
There was something about the way she was looking at both of them, her face impassive as wine-red eyes glanced between them. Like she was sizing them up. He found himself taking a step forward to pull her attention back on him, trying to stand tall despite the soreness in his leg. “What about?”  
  
“It’s…the matter I was planning to discuss with Ren-kun.”  
  
“Oh. For real?” Just like that, Ryuji felt his shoulders drop, a little of the tension going out of them. So she’d wanted to talk with Ren first, but this wasn’t some hush-hush funny business. He really had jumped the gun here. “All right, then. What is it?”  
  
“Wait, shouldn’t we have everyone together?” Ann asked. “This is something important, right?”  
  
Niijima’s gaze dropped to the ground for only a brief moment. It was long enough for Ryuji’s gut to start churning again. “It’s apparent that the events of today have taken a toll on you all. And that some of you are more affected than others. I’d…rather not put any more stress on Futaba-chan or Haru-chan, considering the circumstances.”  
  
Then his first instinct had been right. There was something wrong.  
  
“So this is bad news,” Ryuji clarified, though the grim expression Niijima wore made it unnecessary. “You gotta be kidding me. How can the world dump any more shit on us than it already has?!”  
  
“Seriously,” Ann muttered, glancing over at him. She seemed concerned, and he quickly shook his head.  
  
“I’m fine, I’m not gonna go off on anyone. ‘Shoot the message, not the messenger’, right?” At least Makoto’s sister was being straight with them.  
  
“It’s…it’s simply 'don’t shoot the messenger’,” Niijima corrected after a slow blink. “Though I suppose the sentiment remains the same.” She paused, and then, clasping her hands together, gave them a shallow bow. “First off, I have to thank all of you for taking my request.”  
  
“No, no,” Ann interrupted. “I mean, you’re welcome, but please just skip to the bad news.”  
  
Ryuji nodded. As nice…if weird…having an adult actually be grateful to  _him_  for what he’d done was, he wanted the bandage ripped off quick.  
  
Niijima gave a quick, humorless chuckle. “I don’t blame you. My apologies.” She glanced toward the mouth of the alleyway, watching the pedestrians in front of the hospital, several meters away. Safe distance. “Shido confessed to a variety of crimes. So long as public opinion has changed, we can arrest and prosecute him on those charges. We could even implicate and arrest other members of the conspiracy, however… the problem lies in proving all of those crimes took place. It’d be difficult unless the correlation between the Metaverse and the mental shutdowns is made.”  
  
“Wait, but,” Ryuji blurted out. “Why do you need to prove anything about the Metaverse? Shido was using a–-” He remembered at the last second to lower his voice. Just because he didn’t see anyone nearby didn’t mean no one could hear them, a lesson he’d learned the hard way. “–-a ’ _cleaner_ ’. Didn’t he confess to that? Even if you can’t get him on the shutdowns, ain’t there enough evidence for other stuff to put him away?”  
  
The prosecutor nodded. “Very likely, we could put Shido himself away,” she said. “He’s already confessed to a number of crimes that took place in the real world, and in his current state he’s been very willing to point law enforcement in the direction of some long-buried evidence.”  
  
“…But the conspiracy members…they were requesting shutdowns, so you can’t get them without proving the shutdowns,” Ann reasoned. “They’ve got blood on their hands, too, but there’s nothing you can do about them.”  
  
“Dammit…” The thought made Ryuji’s stomach churn, especially when he considered how many masked snobs had been on Shido’s cruise liner. Only five bozos had been important enough to have introduction letters, but there’d been dozens and dozens more on board the ship and on board with Shido’s crooked methods. Who knew how many had asked for someone’s life to be ruined or ended–-and they were just going to get off scot-free? This wasn’t the kind of justice they’d risked their lives over and over for. This wasn’t what Ren had–-had gotten hurt for.  
  
“No, there is something, but…” Niijima trailed off, then shook her head. “I’m sorry, I just need to make certain of something first. Judging from the reactions of your group, Ren’s current condition… Makoto already told me it wasn’t a shutdown, but it isn’t something you’ve seen before, correct? You don’t know if he’ll recover?”  
  
“He’s absolutely gonna recover,” Ryuji snapped. “Don’t even go there.” Why even say something like that?  
  
“He’s going to get better,” Ann said firmly. “But, you’re right. This isn’t something we’ve seen before. So…we can’t say when he’ll get better.”  
  
He hated the look in Niijima’s dark eyes. It was so obvious she was doubtful, but Ren would get better. He had to. “Akechi, who perpetrated those crimes, is also…unable to testify,” she said somberly. It sounded like she was lumping them in the same category together, and that was just  _wrong_.  
  
“Ryuji,” Ann murmured. His fists were shaking, and he forced them open, shoved his hands into his back pockets.  
  
“…I’m sorry,” Niijima said. “It’s not that I don’t believe you two. However, time is of the essence here. So I’ll be blunt. Without Akechi, and with Ren-kun ill at the moment, I still need someone with knowledge of the Metaverse to testify if we’re to have any chance of taking down the conspiracy as a whole. Which means one of you would have to turn yourselves in to the police.”  
  
“You gotta be kiddin’ me…” Ryuji muttered the words more to himself. It was obvious by her guilty expression that the prosecutor wasn’t showing a twisted sense of humor. She seriously wanted them to up and confess to being a Phantom Thief to the police? Hadn’t she seen what they’d done to Ren when he was arrested?! …Wait. Wait–-  
  
“And you were going to ask  _Ren_  to do that?” Ann asked. For all she’d been trying to tell Ryuji to calm down before, she didn’t hold back any of the acid from her tone now. “After they tortured him the first time? I know it’s frustrating that they might walk away without punishment, but did you really think it’d be worth throwing him to the wolves again? Or any of us!” The model was using every inch of her height to match Niijima’s stature, her arms folded in front of her chest as she glared, and if she decided to throw down with the older woman that minute, Ryuji wouldn’t get in her way at all. He was getting pretty pissed off, too.  
  
Niijima didn’t flinch or back down at all, simply holding up a hand. “I know how it sounds. But hear me out. Him coming forward to confess would have created a different scenario from the police arresting him. I may not be the most popular with the police, but I do have some allies among their numbers. Favors I could call in. I would have done everything in my power to protect him. If either of you decide to confess, I’ll protect you. That’s the least I can do. As for why I was going to ask him… A testimony from a Phantom Thief will be necessary to prove the crimes that took place in the Metaverse. However… a guilty verdict for Shido will likely place the Phantom Thieves on center stage. As heroes who saved this country… revealing the extent of the conspiracy and their crimes would only deepen that sentiment.  
  
"But there’s no way that the police or public prosecutors will let that slide.” Niijima shook her head, her teardrop earrings swinging with the motion. “They’d lose face to the Phantom Thieves. They’d do anything to discredit you…even possibly fabricate a crime if need be. And it’s a certainty that they’d target Ren-kun’s probationary status and revoke it for grave misconduct. The most likely course after that is he would be sent to juvenile hall and placed in solitary confinement. That’s why I wanted to ask him first. His identity was already compromised with his arrest in November…a cursory glance through your social circles, and he’d be back under police scrutiny. Even if you tried to shield him, he’d almost certainly be arrested as a fellow Phantom Thief. That is, assuming he’s fit to be prosecuted.”  
  
“So…you wanted to give him the choice to come forward first, 'cause he’d be effed no matter who did,” Ryuji muttered. It took a minute to really sink in, but once it did the anger welled up thick and hot: he spun around, took the few steps to reach the other side of the alley, and drove his fist into the wall. “This is all so messed up!”  
  
Why were adults like this? Justice could be done, except the people who were supposed to work for justice were so concerned with saving face that they’d try to hurt a bunch of teenagers for doing their jobs better? It shouldn’t have been a surprise, not after November, but it still felt like a new low. And he’d already been erased from reality today because people couldn’t handle being wrong. Or maybe that was part of why this felt so awful. They’d fixed the public’s distortion…but there were still a ton of messed-up individuals, and now they couldn’t do anything about those. Ren was sick, and Futaba was too upset to talk to anyone, and maybe Mona would’ve known something useful but Monamona was never going to give one of his stupid smug know-it-all lectures again because he was gone.  
  
There were tears pricking his eyes, probably because his fist was radiating pain from him hitting the wall like a dumbass. He brushed his other thumb over the scraped knuckles, dimly becoming aware that neither Ann nor Niijima had said anything since his outburst. “Sorry,” he mumbled.  
  
“…No, it’s fine, Ryuji,” Ann told him, stepping back to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him. “Niijima-san, look. We understand that everyone who was involved should be prosecuted. They deserve to be exposed for the criminals they are. But this isn’t the time to be asking any of us this. The Metaverse is gone, so there won’t be any more shutdowns or breakdowns. They aren’t threats. We’ve done our part,” she stressed. “Give us a few days to…to figure all this out. I mean, Shido’s trial needs to actually get underway before the public can react to any of it, right? We’ve got some time before the prosecutors and police decide we’re too popular for their liking. Just give us time. Let Ren get better so he can say something about all this.”  
  
“Ann-chan… I’m sorry, but–”  
  
“No! We’re done!” Ann’s voice was starting to veer more whiny than decisive now, rising in pitch. She brought the heel of her palm to her forehead. “Sorry,” she sighed. “I’m just…really tired.”  
  
“You’ve all had a trying day,” Niijima said, and it wasn’t without sympathy, but it was empty. Meaningless.  
  
And it looked like there was still something she wanted to say. “Just spit it out,” Ryuji muttered.  
  
But she shook her head. “I’m sorry. Ann-chan is right. This is a bad time for everyone. It can be discussed later.” She shifted her weight on her feet before turning around and opening the door. “…Hello, Makoto.”  
  
Ryuji glimpsed the third year’s brown hair past Niijima’s shoulder as she straightened up. If it were a better time, he might’ve laughed at Makoto getting caught red-handed yet again at what looked like another spying attempt. But it wasn’t a good night, and Makoto didn’t react with any of her usual fluster. “Sis. I was wondering what you needed with my friends.”  
  
She sounded pissed, and it seemed to actually faze her older sister a bit, Niijima looking down again. Only for a second. “There was no need to eavesdrop. You could have joined us.”  
  
“Could I?” Makoto asked. “It seems strange to me that you followed after Ann and Ryuji instead of pulling me aside. If any of us needs to turn ourselves in, it should be–-”  
  
“No, wait,” Ryuji blurted out, realizing what she was about to say. He didn’t even want to think about Makoto getting interrogated the way Ren had been. “It’s gotta be–-”  
  
“It’ll be me.”  
  
Three voices, crashing into each other. For the first time since she’d been told of Ren’s collapse, Niijima looked openly bewildered, looking between the three teenagers and taking a step back.  
  
Ann put a hand on her hip. “I’m not even convinced someone should go. Maybe there’s another possibility. But if one of us absolutely has to–-Makoto, you’re smart, the others might need you if something else comes up. Ryuji,  _you’ve_ already risked your neck way too many times. I’ll go.”  
  
Ryuji sputtered. “This ain’t a tally! Who’s even keeping score?! It’s just who makes sense to go!”  
  
“And I make sense,” Ann insisted. “They want to pin something on me? I’m tired of people feeling 'oh so sorry’ for me after Kamoshida, but maybe I can use that sympathy now.”  
  
“Okay,  _that’s_  not gonna work. Ann Windsor, playing innocent?”  
  
“ _That worked!_ ”  
  
“Only 'cause he was a moron!”  
  
“Both of you!” Makoto snapped, startling them before any more could be exchanged. She sighed. “Ann, you had the right idea the first time. This is a discussion for later. Let’s just…go back to the others. The doctors were talking to Boss when I left. Hopefully they’ve told him something.”  
  
Ryuji followed Makoto and her sister back into the building, Ann not far behind.  Hopefully Ren had woken up, though–-man. Juvenile hall and solitary confinement. Ryuji didn’t know how bad juvie itself was, but didn’t solitary make people go crazy after a while? And from what Niijima was saying, Ren was going to get slapped with that, even though he’d done nothing to deserve his probation to begin with, no matter what they did. No matter who went, or if no one went but the police and prosecutors went after them anyway… As long as he was 'fit to be prosecuted’.  
  
Between whatever had made him sick, and the shitty adults Sae had decided to warn them about, it almost felt like the world was determined that Ren just couldn’t have a life.  
  
Makoto’s and her sister’s backs blurred in the middle of the hallway, and Ryuji was horrified to realize he was close to crying again. He hastily lifted his chin and bit the inside of his cheek. He couldn’t lose his shit here. If he did, he’d never convince the girls that it should be him going. He knew, 100% certain, that if Niijima had asked Ren tonight…he would have done it. To see at least some kind of justice done. And to protect everyone else.  
  
If it’d protect everyone else…Ryuji couldn’t do anything less.  
  
Ryuji blinked. Eyes back to clear. Yeah. He couldn’t do anything less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always figure Sae was not popular around Leblanc on Christmas in canon. This just bumps it up by a few hours.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry, I was trying to edit the chapter yesterday and meant to post it today, then when I thought I'd just posted it and went looking for it...it said it was posted yesterday?? which would have been an incomplete version. I'm not entirely sure what happened but I decided to just delete and reupload the chapter to make sure people see the chapter as it's actually meant to be. Apologies for whatever mess it caused. Guess I won't be editing through AO3 drafts anymore, which is a shame since it seemed really convenient at first.
> 
> Anyway, if you saw a version of this that had chapter notes, basically: it was originally supposed to be Makoto who turned herself in, a reviewer astutely pointed out that it didn't reflect well on Sae, and I've been trying to figure it out but ran out of steam for a bit and eventually decided to do a side confidant finding out. I'm doing a chapter from Ren's POV next...so long as the bit at the end makes sense to people.

Like many reporters, Ichiko Ohya kept track of the topics most relevant to her work with a lot of legwork and investigation. She also had several social media alerts set to help her find new leads as stories developed.

Much as she regretted it right now.  Her phone kept buzzing, distracting her from her own light buzz. "Are you not going to check it?" Lala asked from across the bar. "That's not like you."

"It's Christmas Eve! We survived a fucking god!" Ohya exclaimed. "I think I can take a break from work for once."

Lala chuckled. "Honey, if you keep yelling about gods, I'm going to have to cut you off." She leaned forward and murmured: "I've been talking to all my customers, and no one seems to remember a thing. Strange, isn't it?"

"Less strange than the sky raining blood," Ohya mumbled, taking a sip of the drink she'd been nursing. "Denial's one hell of a drug." Her phone buzzed again. "God, what the hell's setting it off? Can't the world take a night and relax?" she complained as she reached and unlocked the screen.

"Which celebrity got wrapped up in scandal this time? Must be juicy, the way that thing's going. You'll tell me, right?"

Ohya checked her social media tracker and immediately scowled. "It's not any of the entertainment alerts. It's the one for mental shutdowns." She hadn't expected that one to be setting off her phone on Christmas Eve--sure, she'd set it as a high priority alert, but the mental shutdowns and psychotic breakdowns had ended. People must not be feeling cheery if they were reminiscing about that crap. Did they have to drag everyone else's night down, too?

...Something was wrong. Even as she thumbed the first mention, a mention on Chatter, she could see there were more mentions already there. They were coming in hot. Another one pinged as she read: 'just saw a mental shutdown in station square! it was scary enough when it was okumura, but this guy looked like a kid. no one's safe'

She moved onto the next mention, a longer post on Rumblr. She quickly started skimming since the post meandered, only describing the scene of the shutdown near the end: '...the guys with him kept saying he'd be fine, but my sister said it looked like a mental shutdown? I'd be in denial too if it was someone I knew. The girls were all crying...I can't even imagine how that must feel.'

They were talking as if there'd  _just_  been a shutdown. But that couldn't be. The kid had promised her--

Another alert. 'Mental shutdown' was mentioned in the caption of a newly uploaded YouRoll video.

"Hey.  You all right, girl?"

Lala's concerned question went right over Ohya's head as she clicked through.

The video was obviously shot by an amateur, moving around enough to make Ohya feel slightly nauseous, but then it slowed down and steadied, focusing on a group of teenagers.

The group looked disquietingly familiar, and one in the foreground prompted immediate recognition: Yusuke Kitagawa. Further back, Haru Okumura was comforting a girl with bold orange hair.

Kitagawa and Okumura. The last disciple of Madarame and the daughter of the most infamous mental shutdown case. Ohya instantly made the connection to the Phantom Thieves involved in both cases and their leader, Ren, and with that context, the identity of the others fell into place: she'd seen the two blonds hovering over the victim outside of Madarame's "atelier", consulting with Ren, and while she didn't have names to put to the last two, she'd bet good money that she'd recognize them if she replayed footage from the last calling card.

Phantom Thieves at ground zero of an apparent mental shutdown case. It'd look bad if anyone knew their identities, but considering they'd just saved the world, Ohya was inclined to give the benefit of the doubt. Especially since the blonde girl was obviously working to resuscitate the victim. Especially given how distressed they all were. But where was he--where was Ren--?

The phone capturing the footage was lifted and angled, bringing the victim into better view, and Ohya jolted from the stool.

"Whoa!"  The sudden movement had knocked the glass and spilled the drink, but Lala grabbed it before it could fall off the counter completely and shatter.  She reached for a rag, but her eyes were on the reporter.  "What's the matter? You're pale as a ghost."

Ohya jabbed the phone to rewind and pause the video, staring, and then turned her phone for the bartender to see, hoping her reaction would prove her wrong. The sharp gasp and hand Lala laid across her chest did nothing of the sort, and Ohya felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. To the last person, mental shutdown victims all ended up dead of health complications or in the same state as Kayo. And now one had claimed the kid. He'd promised her there would be no more, and though she'd gotten frustrated when she asked how he knew only for him to clam up, he'd been so solemn, so serious, that she'd believed him.

Hell of a way for him to be proven wrong.

"Ichiko." A hand between her shoulder blades. Lala had come out from behind the bar. "Back room, honey. Come on." Lala sounded just as horrified as Ohya felt, but the bartender managed to keep her act together, firmly telling the few patrons in Crossroads to behave themselves before steering Ohya to the room, even though the reporter didn't need it, she knew where the room was, she'd interviewed plenty of sources there before. But maybe she needed the help when she was blinking too quickly to fucking see.

Then they got in the room, and Lala's voice dropped--

"Are you sure it's--it can't be staged, can it?"

\--and oh. Ohya was going to blame her lack of thinking on the alcohol. She hadn't thought she'd drank much tonight, hadn't even been trying to get drunk for once, but she should have thought of that possibility ahead of Lala. "Don't know," she mumbled, thumbing at her phone. Had it  _looked_  like the kids were acting? Hell no. But those kids had already needed to convince people that Ren was a goner once before. The ambulance services coming in at the end definitely made it look authentic, but hope was enough to make her text Ren:

 **Ohya:**  Boooooo. You can't pull the same trick twice.

Lala caught sight of the text and gave a chuckle, but there was little humor in it.  She wrung the material of her kimono's sleeve as they waited for a response.  The noise at the bar's front started to get loud.  Had other patrons caught wind of the shutdown, or were they just wondering where Lala was?  Had someone started an argument?  "I better go see what's going on," Lala said reluctantly.  "You let me know if you need anything, won't you?  And if the kid answers--"

"You'll be the first to know, Lala-chan."

The woman nodded, satisfied, and swept out of the room.

Ohya stared down her phone. She waited, and waited, and then thought of how much she was going to regret that last text if that video was showing the genuine deal, and then thought of how it wouldn't really matter because the kid was never going to see it if he was braindead. Her text remained unread.

No no no no no. He'd  _promised._  She regretted, now, not asking him for contact information for at least one of the other Thieves in case he was unavailable. He probably wouldn't have given it to her--he was kind of a cagey kid, with good instincts outside of being thoroughly incapable of leaving someone in trouble alone--but maybe he would have.

Well. Good thing she'd dug into him on her own. She'd initially felt bad about accidentally discovering his phony assault charge, but right now she was grateful to know where he lived. After a quick search, she tried calling Cafe Leblanc's public phone. No answer. Not surprising. But she knew where to go for information if the kid didn't message her back.

She found herself returning to the texting app. She couldn't leave it at that.

 **Ohya:**   You promised, you know.

 **Ohya:** No more victims.

 **Ohya:** I expect to hear from you soon.

* * *

White.

So much white, and blurry shapes moving through it.  They were close enough to make out merely by focusing the eyes.

He didn't care what they were, so his eyes stayed unfocused, even when they hovered in front of him.  Even when things were brushing over, pressing against him.

Thudding.  Buzzing.  Squeaking.  Beeping.  Buzzing.  Intermittent noises.  Some sounded more often than others.  Some sounded closer than others.  None of it mattered, so he didn't keep track.

Buzzing...

The more the buzzing sounded, the more he became aware of it.  He knew that sound.  It meant something.

Some of the few thoughts drifting through an empty mind managed to draw together.

Phone.  Confidant.

He was... wanted?

...Did that matter?  Did he want... want...

...no.

Buzzing still.  Demanding.

If they wanted him, then...

Then... he should... check?

His hand twitched.  But then the buzzing quieted, falling out of earshot.

Ah.  Wrong number.

The silk-thin thread of desire slipped away.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So given who the POV is, this chapter is a bit experimental. Hopefully enough compromises were made for readability's sake--let me know if that's not the case.

There were so many desires. The desires of the entire city of Tokyo--millions upon millions of people, and Ren was alight as he channeled all of them through his being and focused them, fusing that sheer mass of will into a single persona that eclipsed every one he'd held before. He thought of Justine's familiar warning: "Excessive power only leads to destruction", but, well, this was a situation where excessive power was called for. If he had to shake out every yen in his pockets to Lavenza as compensation afterward, he'd do it later and go for broke right now.

Their sole desire at that moment was for justice to be done, and this was how. The people of Tokyo had finally woken up, and they wanted to resist the false god's control. Banish him. Ren would make it happen, no matter what it took. Clouds gathered, and the sky darkened. A demon lord descended.

"Begone."

Satanael needed only one shot to show up a god. And just like that, millions upon millions of wishes were satisfied. It was almost anticlimactic. Ren still grinned. After how much Yaldabaoth had toyed with them, with him (and Lavenza, and _Akechi_ ), it had been satisfying to turn the tables so sharply, and Ren rode on that feeling of euphoria as Mona stepped forward to collect the treasure, now an inert and empty cup. The thief from the Velvet Room was talking about something that seemed important, had to be important, but it took Ren a few seconds to parse his words for some reason. Ah. Morgana was talking about how humans had the ability to change the world and had only forgotten for a bit. They were free now from the slavery they had unintentionally shackled themselves in. Good; it meant the conspiracy would no longer be able to manipulate the public, and Shido would actually be tried, as he should be. The Phantom Thieves were nearly home free.

Ren was nearly free. The idea was almost foreign. He'd gotten so used to being under scrutiny and having to suppress his personality many times these past months. Now that he would be free...

Now that he would be free...?

...

He couldn't come up with anything to finish that thought. Leading the Phantom Thieves and trying to reform society had become his purpose in life over the last year. Now that he had fulfilled it, there was nothing important left to do.

That...wasn't right. Hadn't he wanted other things? Things for himself?

For himself--what a laughably small scale that was. Miniscule, compared to the size of the desire he had just known. He couldn't think of anything he wanted for himself. Nothing would be nearly as satisfying as executing Yaldabaoth just now had been, so why bother? No one would need him any more, either.

...Something was wrong with that thought. Ren shook his head in an attempt to clear it, then scanned his friends. He should speak up if something was wrong. He could ask them for help. He knew that.

When he looked over them, he saw slumped shoulders and stiff movements. They were talking excitedly, but they were so obviously tired from the long fight they'd just endured. He shouldn't bother them with a stray line of thought, not right now. They were worn out. ...He must be, too. He always needed more sleep after a long day in the Metaverse. He'd be able to think about his desires later, after he rested. For now, he just had to follow his friends.

It took longer to actually convince himself to take a step, though. His feet didn't want to move. Was it the water weighing him down? Why was he waist deep in water? The others must have said something about it, but he was...losing track of what was going on... or maybe he hadn't been paying attention in the first place. He felt as though he was already half asleep.

Ryuji looked back and called to him, laughing despite his fatigue. The loud cheerfulness managed to catch Ren's attention, the bright sound clashing against their dismal surroundings. "Joker, hurry up! C'mon, don't be a slowpoke."

Ren gave a weak smile and tried to push himself faster. Ryuji wanted him to be faster.

"Skull, it's only natural if Joker's exhausted," Makoto said, frowning at the blond. "Considering he just summoned that huge Persona..."

"It was quite extraordinary," Yusuke praised, and if anyone said anything more past that point, Ren didn't catch it as his mind started to drift away again. His legs seemed to be made of lead. Why were they walking when they could just sit down?

Right, they were going home. Weren't they? He couldn't just sit down here. His friends would think it was strange.

...Walking seemed so bothersome, though. He didn't actually care about going home. Leblanc would be nice, for a little while, but he already had less than three months left to stay. After that...he couldn't think of anything. He'd been so scared to make any plans for after the Phantom Thieves, to lay claim to any desires, and now, as he rifled through his brain for any wishes, he only came up with obligations. Talk things over with his parents. Finish his third year. Those were chores, not desires.

Something was burning at the edges of his eyes. Something black; when he wiped it away, the small traces barely showed against his trenchcoat's sleeve. The sight made him think brief of Okumura, shutdowns. He didn't feel any concern.

"Hey." A hand on his shoulder momentarily jostled him back into awareness. Ann looked concerned. "Are you okay?"

"Do you need a handkerchief?" Haru offered.

He shook his head. "Don't need anything," he mumbled. The words seemed to come slow, like his breath; he took only the bare minimum he needed to keep moving. "It's fine. 'm fine." He'd already accomplished what he wanted, so it wouldn't matter even if he died. He didn't want anything, and no one needed him anymore. That worked out fine.

The others stopped walking. So Ren did too. His eyes felt hot and wet, black stinging at the edges again, but this time he couldn't be bothered to wipe it away. His cheeks started to burn. His breathing slowed further, and he let his eyes lose focus, no longer seeing. He was tired, and it was too much effort. The whole world soon became dazzling light, so he probably wouldn't have been able to make out much even if he tried.

Morgana was talking again, about how the world could be remade? But Ren didn't care about that anymore. There was nothing he wanted from the world. So he stopped paying any attention to Morgana's words.

He stopped breathing, too.

"...Joker? ...Wait--Joker--"

Was Morgana calling on him? Scolding him for not paying attention? No...Morgana sounded more worried than that...but Ren couldn't bring himself to feel anything. Why was he trying to? He had no desires. He'd done what he'd needed to. He was free. He was free...to...

"JOKER!"

He fell. Hard surface, scraping up his face, it hurt.

But it didn't bother him.

There was pressure on his shoulders, fingers, someone holding him, turning him over. Blue sky. Sunshine yellow. A blobby shape swimming in front of him.

"Ren. Renren?"

Ryuji sounded panicky. Why? He was talking, then someone else was, but there were so many other sounds around that Ren soon lost track. A girl was crying loudly. Another figure joined Ryuji in blocking out the sky. Long hair brushed against Ren's face. Pale, silky...Ann...?

He couldn't be too sure. Everything in his vision was taking on a yellow tint louder than Ryuji's hair dye. Then it all got swallowed up in black.

For a brief moment, he could hear the familiar singing of a woman. Less familiar, Lavenza _shouting_. Then someone started pushing on his chest so hard it hurt, and the sounds of the Velvet Room dropped away into chaotic noise dominated by heavy breathing. The harsh rhythm got closer and closer, and then air was pushed into his mouth. It felt funny. The pressure on his chest returned.

...Oh. This was...it had a name. Something for rescuing people...but he didn't need rescuing? What a waste of time...

...But his chest was really starting to ache.

"Just breathe!"

Air filled his mouth again, and his lungs burned for what little oxygen they got. Dying might be more work than living at this rate.

"Come on!"

Pushy... with the next breath in his mouth, Ren took his own breath. It felt good. Air felt very, very good. His lungs stopped burning, and whoever it was finally stopped shoving on his chest. It still hurt, but...he guessed he could keep breathing for now, if they really wanted him to.

Colors and shapes slowly started to re-form from the darkness. More sounds. Voices. The girl was still sobbing. She sounded like Futaba. Makoto said his name, but he only caught the last few words she said.

"Please, say something."

She wanted him to say something? Why? And what?

'Something.' Was that what she wanted?

Ren said it.

Ryuji laughed and started talking himself. He sounded happier now, so everything must be fine, and his friend's voice faded as Ren picked up on the murmurs all around. None of them stood out on their own; all he heard was the sheer volume. Tokyo was a sea of souls. An ocean of desire. His own wishes had been too small, washed out by the waves.

...Ryuji sounded upset again. He told Ren to say something, and a long phrase, and Ren tried, but it was hard. There didn't seem to be a point to it, either. Futaba was still crying, and Ryuji only sounded more upset--he sounded angry--the next time his voice rang out. The clamor remained as loud as ever, only subsiding when Ren was swept away from the others. Someone came with him part of the way, fingers intertwined with his, but then even they were gone too, and he was left adrift with only blurry shadows against white. Sometimes they seemed like they might be talking to him, but he couldn't tell if they actually wanted anything, and he didn't have any reason to answer them anyway.

He kept breathing. People were going to get upset if he stopped, so he might as well.  For a long time, that was the only thing he did.  Inhale.  Exhale.  Repeat.  And then he breathed in a familiar smell. He took another breath. Coffee. Blue Mountain. There were shadows approaching him, and that wouldn't be important except that one of them spoke in a worn baritone that he knew.

Sojiro...?

"Kid." One shadow leaned over him. "Hey. What the hell did you do to yourself?"

...The question made no sense to Ren. He hadn't done anything but be moved around...did Boss mean something else? But without a simple answer to give, his thoughts simply fizzled out, until he forgot there'd been a question.

The other shadow was talking, calm and sedate.

"--He's not _completely_  unresponsive, though, is he? Haru-chan said he tried answering them--" The agitation in Sojiro's voice pulled at Ren before the hand landing on his shoulder did. "Kid. Look at me. Please."

The hand shook him lightly. Look... The hand was connected to a blurry pink sleeve, which was attached to a blobby but recognizable shirt, which led Ren to looking at a face. Old. Probably Sojiro.

The hand moved up to the top of his head, patting him. "See, that's...something. He's tough. You'll be okay, Ren."

Soft and soothing and confusing. Wasn't he already okay?

Couldn't want for anything more if you didn't want anything at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of the reason anon's original prompt stuck out at me was because I instantly associated a sacrifice in p5 being carried out as a mental shutdown (since that's how many of the deaths happen) or similar with a loss of desire, and I had already been fascinated with the idea of what that would be like for the person undergoing it and what their thought process would be like. It's clear the victims of mental shutdowns can feel pain, but I'm not sure the pain is from the shutdown itself so much as the side effects of those that manage to trigger the body completely shutting down even functions that are normally done without any conscious thought, like breathing and such. The tragedy is less continual suffering and more that what made that person tick is just gone. Hopefully it was clear from the chapter, but Ren has so little desire that his ability to focus on things and string together thoughts long enough to reason and understand is, uh, probably near a newborn's level right now.
> 
> But there's still a speck of desire left, since the PT got him to respond to them. Even if it wasn't the way they wanted... they can make some progress from there.
> 
> And on a totally different note--when I started this, I'd been continually on overtime for two months starting in March. I thought it would let up soon. My workplace has promised at least twice that the overtime would soon be over. But I am still on overtime. This is not a hiatus announcement, because honestly writing fanfic is one of my favorite hobbies--I've been writing other stories along the way, too. This is just an explanation for why the updates ended up being a bit more sporadic than I'd hoped and may very well keep being sporadic. If I start giving myself deadlines for updating fic, it will stop being a hobby for me. That said, thank you to everyone following the fic, and really anyone who's given it a try.


End file.
